Chapter 3: Uphill Battle

Rebecca crossed the private stone courtyard behind her house taking care not to catch her stiletto on the flagstone cracks, so as not to drop the delicate lilac box she was carrying. The moon was high and full, hanging lonely in the dark sky. New Orleans was just too bright at night to let any stars shine through.

Her sister lived in the guest house situated at the very back of the property. There was more than enough space in the main house for the two of them, but Kate liked peace and quiet so she slept in the small but cozy 2000 sq feet guest house attached to the garage. Not sharing walls was probably for the best, to be honest. Rebecca wasn't known to be…Particularly quiet. Plus the guest house only had a wet bar for a kitchen, so her sister still came by for every meal she actually remembered to eat.

"You ready?" Rebecca asked, entering the empty living room.

Kate called out from upstairs after a lot of sudden shuffling noises. "Yep!"

"Yep as in 'I'm putting my shoes on', or yep as in 'I totally lost track of time because I was reading and I only started getting ready when I heard my sister cross the courtyard'?"

"Yep!" Her sister repeated.

Kate was exceptionally punctual in her professional life, but other than that, the girl was a freaking disaster. Kate would argue they both were, on their own merits.

Rebecca plopped onto the couch by the TV and put the lilac box with the enormous ivory bow on the coffee table. She started scrolling over the DM's on her social media, choosing who she was going to invite for her dad's birthday party after-party at Tara's. She wasn't even at the main event yet, and she was already thirsty for a palate cleanser.

The front door swung open, and her cousin Terry walked through, wearing an unusually nice brown suit. "Are we ready?"

"Yep!" Kate repeated from upstairs. They could hear her running back and forth from the bathroom to her bedroom.

Making sure her sister didn't become a Yep machine, she asked the obvious. "Hey, Kate! Wanna go to Tara's after?"

"No!" The voice echoed. She was paying attention.

"No, Terry, I'm afraid we are not ready," Rebecca sighed, rolling her eyes at her cousin. "You look nice."

"Thanks," Terry muttered. "I never know what to wear to these things."

Rebecca squinted, worry already forming a tight ball in her stomach. For most families, having your nephew attend a birthday party would be completely normal. But the Bellefleurs were not your typical family. Her father was turning 71, and a lot of executives from all his companies were coming, along with friends of the family. This wasn't your good old-fashioned American family blood ties kind of event. It was more of a 'who's willing to commit perjury for me in court' kind of attendance. Everyone would be kissing Richard Bellefleur's ass tonight in hopes of a slice of the pie later when the old dinosaur retires.

Terry was a Bellefleur, there was no mistaking it. But he had grown up on a very different side of the family, a much humbler but perhaps just as dysfunctional one. And they weren't poor per se, but they weren't Richard Bellefleur wealthy. And to be honest, Terry wasn't very good at… Socializing. As an ex-soldier, Terry put the brave and stoic mask on which worked for his ordinary day-to-day as her driver and bodyguard. But it did not bode well with the vipers that lurked in the Bellefleur executive pit. At family functions she could hear the whispers behind his back, the looks coming from across the room, the crude comments poking fun at his redneck accent, his upbringing, the way he dressed, and even his PTSD.

Rebecca at least always tried to keep Terry away from the ones she disliked the most, and she usually was successful. But her family's parasites were hard to predict sometimes.

"What did you get him for his birthday?" Terry asked, masking his nervousness.

While Rebecca genuinely tried to buy Napoleon Bonaparte's taxidermied penis off the Lattimer family as a joke, all she got him was a box of his favourite beignets. And no, not from the tourist trap that was Cafe Du Monde, she got him real homemade beignets made from a real Creole-owned coffee shop across town. It might sound like a pedestrian gift, but shopping for her dad was legitimately impossible. What to buy for a man whose net worth was 21 Billion dollars? He probably had already owned Napoleon's dick at some point. Jesus, he's old enough might have been the one who cut it off himself.

"A box of donuts," she said, nodding to the pretty box on the coffee table. "You?"

"I bought him this really nice wine," Terry said proudly, nodding at Kate who finally made her appearance down the stairs. "I thought you said we were leaving at 7."

"We are!" Kate answered, putting earrings on. "You look nice, Terry."

Rebecca glanced at her sister but did not get up. She knew she didn't have to just yet. "Your dress is inside-out."

Kate looked at the side seams of her navy blue dress, only now noticing the serger's stitches facing out. Muttering a curse under her breath, her sister disappeared back up the stairs.

"We're gonna be late," Terry said after a while.

"It would be weirder if we weren't. We are always late."

"There! There! I'm ready!" Kate ran back downstairs.

Kate looked presentable, but nearly identical to how she looked at work. Hair tied back, extra mascara and tinted lip balm, except now she was wearing the dress Rebecca had picked out for her, as she always did for public events. She actually looked like a woman, and not a kid wearing a scientist Halloween costume.

Although, part of her will always see Kate as a kid.

The three of them stepped out into the charming lamp-lit courtyard and around to the garage, where Terry already had the car running. It was only a 45-minute drive out of town to the Bellefleur Estate. Rebecca and Kate bellowed Taylor Swift's latest album at full volume, much to Terry's annoyance. But they both suspected Terry was secretly a Swifty, he was just too manly to admit it.

When they entered the gates of their father's Estate they passed by a row of valet-parked Bentleys, tacky neon-colored Lamborghinis, and other excessively large bulletproof SUVs. Terry's brows knitted together, and Becca immediately knew her cousin was going to refuse the valet parking guys to take their vehicle as he considered it a Level 1 threat.

The man was scared to death that their car would be sabotaged and that Rebecca and her sister would be kidnapped for ransom by the Russian mercenaries (it was always the Russians with Terry). Neither of the girls doubted for a second that Terry would go full Liam Neeson on Putin himself before their father would even be informed they went missing.

Once their doors opened at the footsteps of the main house, Rebecca and Kate slid out of the car as Terry started arguing with the poor 16-year-old trying to take the car away.

"We'll be inside Terry," Rebecca told her cousin, who paid her no mind.

Taking her sister's arm into hers before Kate disappeared into some obscure part of the house, the two slowly walked up the stairs, smiling and nodding at the familiar guests wandering in and out of the house.

"Why did you invite Terry tonight?" Rebecca whispered to her sister under her brightest corporate smile.

"What do you mean, why? He's family."

Rebecca pursed her lips, giving her sister a scolding look. While absolutely brilliant, Kate lacked some serious social skills sometimes. "But this isn't really a family function. You know this."

"So what - Terry was supposed to drive us to his uncle's birthday party and then wait out in the driveway?"

While Kate had a point, Rebecca always felt worried allowing Terry to roam alone in the snake pit. She didn't want others to make fun of him or be insidiously mean like she knew they could be.

Her sister gave her a warm smile, blissfully ignorant. "I know our family can be… A lot. But Terry has literally gone to war not once but three times! He can handle talking to Dad's golf buddies and the other old white raisins without his bodyguard. They aren't all that bad, now let's go say hi to people."

Rebecca glanced back at Terry, who was still arguing with the valet, telling him grimly he was going to park the car "his goddamn-self". Heart tugging at her chest, she followed her sister inside. Kate was right on the money when she said old white raisins - this party was looking a hell lot like a funeral. A bunch of old white men and their questionably young trophy wives wearing boring-ass clothes. The Queen of England probably threw livelier ragers than this. The live string quartet set in the main living room and trays filled with canapés that barely looked like edible food didn't help. She yearned for the salted pretzels from Tara's deep in her soul.

All the usual suspects were present: oil barons, media moguls, the energy sector, three senators, the Mannings, the Stullers, a bunch of Waltons, the Duncans and the Hunts. If they were wealthy and southern, they were here.

Rebecca could spend day in and night out doing business deals with people just the ones in this room and absolutely thrive. And yes, most people trying to climb the corporate ladder would probably kill to be here right now. But Rebecca grew up around these people. She was wise enough to know none of them took her seriously. In their eyes, she was just Richard Bellefleur Sr.'s little girl, who rode horses, played with dolls, and lost her mother far too young.

There was only one person here she needed the approval of. Get that, and everyone would fall in line.

"Easy for you to say that," Rebecca muttered under her breath as they passed two Murdochs. "You spend all your time below ground with vampires, I actually have to work with these bloodsuckers and God knows which one is worse."

Kate let out a delicate snort of laughter. "The vampires aren't so bad, they are surprisingly ordinary," Kate explained.

A server passed carrying a tray of champagne. Kate hesitantly reached for a glass, and Rebecca eagerly reached for two.

"It's the humans that are the less than pleasant ones…" She muttered into the glass of expensive bubbly liquid.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing."

"No, seriously! Is someone being shitty at the lab?"

"Everything is fine!" Her voice went up an octave.

"You're a terrible liar."

"So are you!"

"I am not! I am in fact the best liar of this family."

"Second best," a voice interjected and Rebecca rolled her eyes immediately. "Just like with everything else."

"Richie!" Kate followed with an awkward laugh. "I didn't know you were coming down for Dad's birthday."

"I wouldn't miss it. I arrived from China a couple of hours ago. But enough about me-"

"Yes please." Rebecca barked, downing a whole flute in one go. Their older brother irked her in a way no other human on this earth did.

"Look at you, Kate!" Dick ignored Rebecca entirely and gave his favourite sister a hug. "Looking like… A real person."

"Ah, thank you!" Kate blushed, not getting it wasn't really a compliment. It must be so peaceful to be Katherine Bellefleur. "I'm really surprised you came actually."

"You think spending a median household's yearly income on jet fuel would stop him?"

Dick ignored her. "Of course! Dad's making an announcement tonight, so it would be awkward if the guest of honour wasn't here," he smirked, taking a deep sip of the amber liquid in his crystal glass.

Announcement? What announcement?! The shit-eating grin on her brother's face was far too relaxed and devious for her not to immediately think the worse. Her father was finally announcing his retirement and putting fucking Richard Junior in charge? Could this be? Was her worst nightmare about to unfold right in front of her eyes? Oh, absolutely the fuck not!

"Announcement? You think Dad's finally retiring?" Kate asked, her eyes perked up. She knew how much Rebecca wanted this. She's been waiting for this moment since she was 4.

"Doubt it," Rebecca drank the rest of her second champagne glass in one go. "I would know."

Terry found them amidst the small crowd at the entrance. "Dick!"

"Terry, my man!" Her brother gave him a full man hug, patting him on the back. Richard Junior and Terry were about the same height, but Terry just about swallowed him. Dick was just a scrawny little thing, just like the little weasel he was. "How's the only personal employee of my sister's that she isn't fucking doing?"

"Ew, Dick!" Rebecca slapped him on the arm. This guy? Dad was going to pick this fucking guy to be the CEO of Bellefleur Tech? Over her dead fucking body. "What is wrong with you?!"

"Oh, I'm sorry, how insensitive of me. Are you also fucking Terry?"

"He's our cousin you sick fuck."

The warm deep voice of their father came from above. "Are you two fighting already?"

"Dad!" Kate smiled. "Happy birthday!"

Their father looked at his three children with a tired smile and he approached them. He wasn't a very warm person but managed to give Dick a handshake and each of his daughters a kiss on the cheek. He looked handsome in his silver suit and freshly cut hair which had been fully white since the Bush administration.

"Happy Birthday, Dad," Rebecca said, handing him the humble box of donuts. "Don't eat yourself into a diabetic coma, please."

"Ah," he took the box awkwardly as if he had never held a box before. "Thank you, Rebecca."

"Happy birthday, sir," Terry said stiffly, handing him the bottle of wine.

"Terry," he nodded, surprised. He then looked at Terry with an expression Rebecca only could identify as pity, making her stomach shrink three sizes. "Cooking wine," he squinted at the print. "Useful, thank you."

Rebecca's spirit was crushed slightly on behalf of her cousin, whose face was stone cold as usual. She hated how her family and the people in her circles treated other people. Their innate talent of making others feel small. She could only be thankful most seemed incapable of understanding her family's own language of subtle insults.

"Dad, can I borrow your phone for approximately the next two hours?" Kate asked.

"Uhm…" The request made him uneasy. "Did you forget yours?"

"No, I need to install something in it. It's your birthday gift."

"Is it Chinese?"

"No, I made it."

He let out a long exhale, reaching into his blazer pocket and reluctantly handing his iPhone to her. Kate let out a tiny squeal of joy and literally ran up the right side of the split stairs. For a moment, they were little kids again. Kate always had permission to leave social gatherings to go do her genius thing, while Rebecca played the (hostage) hostess.

"Come find me later, Katherine!" Her father called out, and she dropped another Yep!

Rebecca exhaled deeply. Kate would be gone for hours. There goes her company for the evening...

"Junior, kind of you to show your face," Richard patted his son's back.

A red flag popped in her mind. Her father was making an announcement but wasn't expecting Richar Junior to be here? Or was her brother just playing his usual mind games? Their dad was about to go about his way to mingle with party guests when Richie spoke up.

"You didn't ask me what I got you for your birthday, Dad," his blue eyes twinkled.

The old man held a sigh and shook his head slightly, annoyed that his son was going to make him guess. What could he possibly have bought for a man who already owned two yachts?

"What is it?" He exhaled.

"Naming rights to the Caesars Superdome," he chirped. "It will become the Bellefleur Superdome as of next week. The announcement will drop tomorrow morning."

Rebecca's jaw just about hit the floor. She had brought an honest-to-God fucking box of donuts and this Yeezy-wearing asshole bought their dad a fucking football stadium?!

"You are shitting me," Richard said. His expression was static and neither of them could tell if he liked it or not. Their dad very seldom swore.

The only one visibly excited here was Terry, who was a huge Saints fan.

"Nope. It comes with its own VIP box that is all yours Dad. And we're set to host the Superbowl in 3 years."

Richard pulled his son into a tight hug, patting him loudly on the back and cheering his excitement for all to hear.

"Oh, for fucks sake," Rebecca snarled, walking away and disappearing into the crowd. Her brother had played the boys club card and had won, again.

She picked up cocktails left and right from every server that passed by. Dom Perignon wasn't cutting anymore. As the night dragged on, Rebecca made small talk to a lot of her father's friends, who were all excited to join him at Saint's games next season. Having to hear them all praise Dick Junior was like nails on a chalkboard. She also overheard plenty of insider trade information and backdoor deals that not even the attorney general could dream of. She was just so overlooked, that they didn't bother with her presence whatsoever. But to them, why even bother? She was only the COO of an up-and-coming multi-million dollar company that sold vampire tech, while they invested twice Bonne Nuit's worth in the stock market 'for funsies'.

Regardless, Rebecca had her moves planned out in advance. She was just waiting for the presumed announcement. Rebecca wandered in and out of conversations all night before finally seeking some quiet and solitude outside. She mindlessly strolled through the gardens, all around the pool and back, always keeping an eye on Terry who stood up and the main terrace talking to another cousin from his side of the family, Andy Bellefleur and his wife Holly. It had always struck her as odd that her father always formally invited them to these kinds of things and not Terry who basically lived with them, especially when Andy and Holly had to drive all the way down from Renard Parish for it. But who the fuck knows, maybe Andy was a good golf player or something because he sure as fuck didn't have anything in common with anyone here. He's been divorced a couple of times, had a kid out of wedlock, more than a few mental breakdowns but somehow managed to become Chief of Police up north.

She sat by the poolside fire pit, letting herself be distracted by the heat and flames keeping her warm in the late-night chill air. She regretted not wearing a coat, but her outfit was worth it. High-rise pink satin pants and matching bralette, covered by a loose crystal mesh tunic and silver Balenciaga shoes for contrast. Life was too short to wear boring clothes.

"What are you doing out here all by yourself?" Her brother's familiar voice came out from the shadows, like the creep he was. Months without hearing from the fucker, and now she can't escape him.

"Hiding from Elon. You?"

"Murdoch girls," he laid on the other side of the curved booth around the fire. The pretty yellow glow of the pit highlighted his features. Everyone always mentioned how much Kate looked like Mom, but he had her eyes too. Just not her heart.

"You could do worse," she said, crossing her arms.

"Meh, I can also do better. Remember Miranda?"

"I do, only because you bring her up every time I see you. It's kind of sad."

Her brother had a phase of only dating ex Victoria's Secret models and he was somehow 10 times more insufferable then.

"And who are you dating these days?"

Rebecca made a face. Nothing good could come from either answer. It was perhaps old-fashioned, but she had dreams of being in love and married someday. Every spring she bought a stack of bridal magazines and updated her dream wedding binder, which she hid under her bed. She was not proud of it, and would only admit it under waterboarding circumstances but there were a few instances when she really liked a guy she was dating that led her to book private sessions at Kleinfelds in New York to try on wedding dresses. Both times, they cheated on her.

It didn't bode well for her as a businesswoman to want to be a wife. She was told time and time again by new money douchebags that 'husbands and kids will only slow you down'. And, unfortunately, history has proven that to be correct. But Rebecca always dreamed that one day she would meet the right man, and he would help her build her empire instead of hindering her. Women do that all the time for men, why not the other way around?

That man, this mythical creature, was yet to be found. And it was better for society in general if her brother wasn't privy to her hopes and dreams.

"Nobody. Why would I waste my time with dating?"

"Uh, because you're running out of it? You turn 30 next year."

"Oh I'm sorry, I forgot I turn into a fucking pumpkin on my 30th birthday," her eyes shot him daggers.

"All I'm saying is that soon you'll be in that weird age when you're too young for men in their 40s and too old for men in their 30s."

Well, that was an incredibly depressing thought. She rolled her eyes, pretending his words didn't sting. "Who cares, love is fake anyway."

"You can't believe that."

"Sure I can."

"Mom and Dad were madly in love with each other, Becca," his words lingered in the air for a while, dulling the conversation for a painful minute.

Did they? Did her parents really love each other? How does someone who is so in love kill themselves? Perhaps love simply wasn't enough. She wished it was.

Dick didn't seem too fond of whatever rabbit hole his mind went down either. Which is why he always insists on saying something gross right afterwards. "Well, you sure ain't getting any hotter."

"You are such a pig, Jesus Christ!" She scoffed getting up.

"Sit down dear," her father said, coming down the garden stairs with Kate in tow. "It's time for us to catch up before cutting the cake."

Richie slid down next to Rebecca, who sat back down straighter than ever. Dad and Kate joined them around the flames, feeling the warmth of the fire on their skin. Even still, her stomach was filled with ice. It was time for the aforementioned announcement.

"I wanna know…" Dad crossed his legs, leaning back against the blue cushions. The tension was palpable. "How my kids are doing."

The Bellefleur children looked at each other confused. "Why?"

"Because I'm your father?" He blinked, half offended.

"No offence Dad, but the last time you asked us how 'we were doing' you shipped us off to boarding school," Rebecca sneered, swirling the ice in her empty glass. She knew there wasn't enough alcohol at this party to get her to sit down and discuss her childhood traumas with dear old dad, and her siblings probably felt similar.

"I thought I was doing the right thing. Your mother had just died."

And that's when his kids probably needed their father the most. She looked at Kate's eyes, her gaze low, her hand fiddling with the locket. Every Bellefleur child took the death of their mother differently, but Kate was decidedly the one who suffered the most. Her sister was the one who had found Mom's body after all.

Yep, see? Not enough alcohol in the world. So she shifted to a more palatable topic, and perhaps her favourite thing to do - throwing her brother under the fucking bus.

"Well, I for one am kinda pissed if you really want to know," Rebecca looked straight at her father.

"About boarding school?"

"No!" Actually, yes. "About having Bellefleur plastered on the side of New Orlean's arguably shittiest building."

"Rebecca-" her father warned, recognizing her pointed voice. They were about to have a fight.

"I think it will be fun!" Kate tried to break the tension. "Football was our thing, remember? We used to watch it every Sunday as kids-"

"God! You are such a narcissist, Rebecca!" Dick protested, completely cutting his sister off. "This has nothing to do with you! It's a gift for Dad-"

"It's my name too! And Kate's! And sadly, yours too. Do you want our family name attached to power outages and hurricane relief every summer? Everyone knows that stadium is a piece of shit. I mean, that thing as old as a dad-"

"Hey!" Her father called out.

"You are just such a sore loser, Rebecca! Get him a box of gold-leafed donuts next time but don't bust my balls for outdoing your own mediocrity-"

"You two! That's it!"

But Rebecca was at full throttle and there was no stopping her.

"Wanna talk mediocrity, Dick? Sure, let's talk about that Mei Lin deal you just closed."

Her brother's jaw clicked, and shadows appeared in his features. "Mei Lin is a great acquisition. It's our third this year. How many companies have you ever bought, huh? Zero. Dad thinks it's the right move too."

"Oh, does he now?" She pivoted on her seat, hugging her knees. If her father had really known what Dick had done, then her father was a fucking fool, but she knew that was not the case. You don't build an empire this big by making idiotic choices. His only flaw was to continually trust his eldest son. "Dad, do you know where Mei Lin is located?"

"Your brother showed me the contract, Rebecca, it's legit-"

"Singapore."

"No, their contract address is in Shanghai."

"But their manufacturing plant is in Singapore," she corrected him.

"Congrats, Becca, you can read a map." Dick boasted, annoyed. "See Dad? Boarding school was money well spent."

"Did you go to their manufacturer in Singapore? I mean you must have, you were gone all summer."

"Rebecca, is this going somewhere?" Her dad asked, looking exhausted. "There was actually-"

"Satellite footage of their plant doesn't show a single shipping truck coming or going from their manufacturing facility for the past six months but yet their stock keeps going up. How come Dick?"

There was a crackle and a pop in the firepit, sending embers high up in the air. Kate's eyes bounced from Rebecca to Dick like a tennis match.

"Junior, what the fuck did you buy?" Their dad asked in his whiskey-smooth and sombre voice.

Here it comes-

"Signing a deal with Malaysia's Prime Minister's nephew is what he did. He artificially inflated the price of a ghost company and you took the fucking bait."

Boom, bus.

"Mei Lin is legitimate, Dad!"

"As legit as Kim Kardashian's ass, maybe. And perhaps if you spent a little less time partying and a bit more time working you'd see it."

Her brother looked at her with wild, hateful eyes. "Has it ever crossed your mind what Bonne Nuit could actually be if you spent more time working and less time spying on me?"

Her father let out a deep exhale. "Dick, go fix it."

"Dad, I can explain it!"

"Go. Now! Call Desmond, and get legal on this before the end of the day. Tell them the contract was given in bad faith."

"It's past midnight-"

"He means the end of day in Shanghai you moron," Rebecca twisted the knife.

Richard Junior quietly stormed off the fire pit and Rebecca proudly watched her brother walk up the terrace steps defeated, embarrassed, humiliated and about 2 inches shorter. She did not feel an ounce of pity. If she had made a mistake of this calibre, he would have thrown her to the wolves and sold tickets to anyone who wanted to watch.

"He does have a point, you know." Her father snapped, still irritated.

Rebecca's pride turned into an ache in seconds. "What do you mean?"

"You could accomplish a lot more if you weren't so preoccupied with taking your brother down."

"Are you kidding me?! I closed a 410 million dollar deal with the Louvre this week and managed to save Bellefleur Tech from a 250 million dollar scandal, and I made it to both my nail and hair appointments and you think I am distracted?"

She had to bite back the tears. It always played out like this. Her whole life she fought the same uphill battle. But their dad always took her brother's side, no matter how rotten it was. Nothing she ever did was good enough. When she moved boldly it was too much. When she moved precisely, it was too subtle. When it was calculated, it was too safe. Dick's wins were her loss, his losses were somehow hers too. She never won.

"I must confess, that was a big oversight on his part." Oversight? Oversight?! "But there was something important I wanted to discuss with you. With both of you, actually."

He glanced at Kate, who almost gasped in shock. She always stayed out of it. "Me?"

"Yes. This week there are some pretty important clients visiting Bonne Nuit that I need you both to impress."

"Me?" Kate stammered again.

Rebecca frowned. "I impress all my clients, you know that."

What was so important about these clients? Kate wasn't usually brought in to meet with clients unless they were particularly difficult and needed to speak to 'the expert'. Rebecca already had a bad feeling about this. Unless he was referring to Kate's expertise specifically, she had no idea why these mystery clients would be any different.

"I know, but this is the big leagues, girls. Wanna prove you have what it takes? Don't fuck this one up. Are you two still taking your eye drops?"

The eye drops were one of their mother's most prized inventions. Patented as Calantica, they prevented vampire compulsion for 12 hours. Bellefleur Tech, the pharmaceutical giant and Bonne Nuit's parent company, had been trying to put it on the market for years, but the FDA has been sandbagging it in court for over a decade now. They believed it to be snake oil, as it was never ever proven vampires could actually control people, so selling the cure for it was bogus. But anyone in the vampire business or who actually took them seriously knew better. Her father has been discreetly selling it privately to his inner circle, or trading it for favors under the table for ages. Who is going to say no to that kind of protection?

"Always," Kate reassured him. "Who's coming Dad?" Kate asked, her voice innocent as it could be.

"The owners of New Blood," her dad said simply. "Godric and Eric Northman."


AN: and that's the intro!

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